"They ought to see that if they are not all asleep," Frank said, as
he looked up at the sails standing out white against the dark sky.

"Set to work with that foghorn," the skipper said; and a man began
to work the bellows of a great foghorn, which uttered a roar that
might have been heard on a still night many miles away. Again and
again the roar broke out.

"That has fetched them," the captain said. "She is starboarding her
helm to go astern of us. There, we have lost her red light, so it
is all right. How I should have liked to have been behind the
lookout or the officer of the watch with a marlinespike or a
capstan bar. I will warrant that they would not have nodded when on
watch again for a long time to come.

"Here she comes; she is closer than I thought she was. She will
pass within fifty yards of the stern. It is lucky that we had that
big horn, Major Mallett, for if we had not woke them up when we did
she would have run us down to a certainty."

As the steamer came along, scarcely more than a length astern of
the yacht, a yell of execration broke from the sailors gathered
forward.

"That was a near shave, George," Frank Mallett said, when the
steamer had passed. "It brought me out in a cold sweat at the
thought that, if the Osprey were to be run down, there was an end
to all chance of rescuing Bertha from that scoundrel's clutches. I
don't know that I thought of myself at all. I am a good swimmer,